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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25437550">I'll be there (for you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiegenlied/pseuds/Wiegenlied'>Wiegenlied</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>drabbles and prompt fills [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Fluff, Harry deserves to be Happy, Protective Tom Riddle, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tom is a ruthless person in every universe, but is soft for one little boy, i still don't know how to tag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:15:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25437550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiegenlied/pseuds/Wiegenlied</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Riddle had never been particularly interested in soulmates. They were intriguing, yes, and quite rare- he will not deny accounting for the <i>possiblity</i> of having one. </p>
<p>Though when he fails to manifest anything by the time he is an adolescent, he takes an unbothered moment to restructure his plans. Soulmate or no soulmate, Tom would rise from the odds fate had dealt him and <i>thrive.</i> </p>
<p>Until his mark appears, a few years later, and changes everything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter &amp; Tom Riddle | Voldemort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>drabbles and prompt fills [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1491779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Greetings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This one's for you, Dani, Alice, Parfaiti and Alana 💕 Thank you for encouraging my works, one sketch at a time.</p>
<p>I plan for this to be a drabble-type fic, and hope to post frequent updates for it in the coming weeks. It'll be my first attempt at doing so- and although I am nervous, I am very excited to share this story with you all as well!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The man below him screamed, the dissonant sound tapering off only to be replaced with the most horrid gurgling instead. Disgusted, Tom lifted his boot and wiped it on the small clean portion of the floor that hadn't yet been stained red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lucius," he drawled. "Get this... filth cleaned up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, my Lord."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed, stripping the gloves off his hands and dropping himself into the sofa in the next room. Tipping his head back, he shut his eyes in the hopes of catching some sleep-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>- when the familiar itching began on his left arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes still closed, he unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve and rolled them up to his bicep, before reaching over to the table next to him and grabbing a pen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tom was pleased to see a <em>'Hello,'</em> was already scrawled across his arm, childish handwriting making the letters uneven. The daily practice of writing it must have improved the boy's skill. Like clockwork, it was quickly followed by <em>'Harry.'</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clicking the pen, Tom replied swiftly, automatic in his attentions. <em>'Hello,'</em> he mirrored, handwriting elegant but deliberately enlarged. <em>'Tom.'</em></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry explores and makes a discovery</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To all those who commented, left kudos (what <i>is</i> the plural of that? kudos'd? kudoses?), and bookmarked, thank you kindly! I hope you enjoy reading this 💛</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry had always been an inquisitive child.</p><p></p><div class="message-2qnXI6 cozyMessage-3V1Y8y groupStart-23k01U wrapper-2a6GCs cozy-3raOZG zalgo-jN1Ica">
  <p></p>
  <div class="contents-2mQqc9">
    <p></p>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>Initially, he had been driven into the school's library by an intense and desperate <em>need</em> to get away from Dudley and his friends. Harry hunting had gotten particularly vicious lately after Ms. Appleby had returned their science quizzes. Dudley had seen the sticker on Harry's quiz paper, face becoming a splotchy red in fury. Harry recognized this particular shade of anger- the pinched lips combined with the searing glare a sign of an imminent tantrum.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>A bad one.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>So Harry fled to the school's library during the recess and lunch breaks that day, and thereafter whenever he could. It was easy enough, once he figured out how to distract Dudley after class. Sometimes the ideas would come easier to him. A quick knot here, a little glue there- but more often he'd have to just... make a run for it.</p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div><div class="message-2qnXI6 cozyMessage-3V1Y8y wrapper-2a6GCs cozy-3raOZG zalgo-jN1Ica">
  <p></p>
  <div class="contents-2mQqc9">
    <p></p>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>What had been a discovery born out of necessity became Harry's favourite place in the world. There was so much to discover! Comic books and fairytales, books on the solar system and wildlife and ancient Egyptian history. Harry would spend all day in the library if he could, and maybe all night too. The cushions in the back that were faded, the plush sofas and beanbag chairs, even the rug which was coarse and rough. Everything was so much more comfortable than his old, lumpy mattress, and would be leagues better than his cupboard.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>Ms. Sarah didn't seem like she'd mind. She was a bit cautious towards him at first, but not any more than a teacher would be with any new student. Thankfully, it seemed like Dudley's influence hadn't reached her yet. She always seemed so happy to see Harry show an interest in reading, her smile small and almost proud.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>Harry liked making her smile. He'd have to make sure Dudley didn't see how happy being in the library made him.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>As he was wandering through the aisles during recess one day, eyes drifting from one book title to the next, Harry came across a curious little thing. A small, red book rested on a nook at the end of the last shelf. Now, this in itself wasn't anything odd- what made this so strange was the fact that all the books in the library were fairly new. The colours of the cover were faintly dull, the sign of a book that was well used and taken care of, but still showed signs of age. There wasn't any barcode or library stamp on it either. Maybe someone had left it behind?</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>Gold embellishments swirled over its corners and edges. Harry carefully took it in hand, not wanting to damage the book if it was an old one, let alone if it belonged to anyone else. Flipping through the book, Harry was surprised to note that each individual page was also lined with the same gold luster that was on the cover.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>'How odd,' Harry thought to himself. 'This doesn't seem like the type of book that belongs in the history section.'</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>The cover, however, begged to differ. <em>Soulmates and Soulmarks: A Comprehensive History</em>  it read. <em>By Myrddin Wyllt </em>was written on the back.</p>
    </div>
    <div class="markup-2BOw-j messageContent-2qWWxC">
      <p>Pleased with his discovery, Harry made his way towards the squashy beanbag chairs in the back. Smiling when he saw that his favourite chair, the green one in the right corner, was free, he settled down. Flipping open the book, Harry began to read.</p>
      <p>
        <em>Soulmates are a pair of individuals that are can interact with one another no matter the distance between them. A pair of soulmates are those who hold identifying marks, found on the non-dominant arm of each individual. These areas, referred to as the receptive zone, are the points of contact between two soulmates...</em>
      </p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A speedy update? Σ(°ロ°) I'm just as surprised as you are ///</p><p>This chapter was inspired by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amour_mort88/pseuds/Amour_mort88">Amour_mort88's</a> comment from the last chapter (*´︶`*)♡</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Business concluded, Tom gestured for Abraxas to wrap up the proceedings. The man stepped forward and bowed, briefly but with no less respect, before summoning the lurking Avery and Nott forward with a sharp glance. Together, the three men dragged the offending form, exhausted and unconscious, into the next room.</p><p>It seemed that they would have their answers shortly.</p><p>Tom rubbed his arm, absentminded and distracted, mind already focused on the next task at hand. He swiftly made his way outside the room to get en route to the next location. Spotting Mulciber outside the door, Tom beckoned him closer.</p><p>"Get the car ready," he said curtly, frowning at his arm.</p><p>It had been itching since morning, starting with a slight tingling that had escalated into an almost-ache. He had not had a chance to uncuff his sleeves to see what may have caused it. His schedule had been tight today, meetings with the North and West groups placed back to back. While lounging in their midst would assert his rightful dominance over them, Tom considered with a scowl, it would also bring attention to one of Tom's... weaknesses, so to speak.</p><p>Tom Riddle had never been particularly interested in soulmates. They were intriguing, yes, and quite rare- he will not deny accounting for the <em>possiblity</em> of having one.</p><p>Though when he failed to manifest anything by the time reached adolescence, he took an unbothered moment to restructure his plans. Soulmate or no soulmate, Tom would rise from the odds fate had dealt him and <em>thrive.</em></p><p>So no, he would not have exposed his bare arm to those fools. Even if it were to check for potential damage.</p><p>Tom had never had something so primitive as a <em>rash</em> before, so it could not be that. It was not mosquito season either, the weather too cool for their infestations to have begun- no, it was more likely that the Carrows had decided to play a prank.</p><p>The desired target would not have been Tom, of course. He had thoroughly <em>educated</em> the pair to understand just how dangerous of an idea that would be, what with the consequences they had faced the last time they tried to do something as plebeian as this.</p><p>Perhaps it was for Severus? Though if it was someone who had regular contact with Tom's clothing, Abraxas would be the better guess. Regardless of who the prank was meant for, Tom would assess the damage and act accordingly.</p><p>Mulciber lumbered forward and opened the car door. Seating himself in the back, Tom allowed the tension in his shoulders to relax minutely. It was only in the privacy, given by the separating screen between him and the driver, that he removed his suit, unbuttoned his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves.</p><p><em>'Hello. I'm Harry,'</em> was written across his forearm. The handwriting was messy and the letters uneven, a vivid red pen used to scrawl the words.</p><hr/><p>Tom froze, his mind drawing to a complete and utter stop. </p><p>
  <em>Could it be?</em>
</p><p>And then the words faded mere moments after Tom had read them, smug in their certainty that the message had been received. </p><p>He had resigned himself to a life without a soulmate in his early teens, when his non-dominant hand remained unfeeling and unmarked, his carefully written words unanswered time and time again.</p><p>His own handwriting mocking him even as he washed the ink away.</p><p>But now...</p><p>"Now," Tom murmured, thoughtful, softly stroking the place where the greeting had once been visible. "I have one."</p><p>Soulmates were an indication, according to certain theories, of great talent. Individuals that would become famous, that were leaders of change and growth, those that were destined for greatness. Throughout his life, Tom had proved himself, his ambitions and capabilities, time and time again. </p><p>Which made the evident disappointment in other people's gazes when they inquired into his soulmate status that much more infuriating. Was he not their Lord, powerful and intelligent and <em>better</em> than all his followers combined? Would a mere mark, or lack of it, truly determine his worth?</p><p>The mark on his arm- the handwriting belonged to that of a child. Letters large yet hesitant, almost as though they were doubting the possibility of having a soulmate even as they tested their receptive zone.</p><p>Would he decide to claim them as his own?</p><p>Ideas and thoughts and plans rearranging themselves in his mind, Tom came to his decision. It did not matter who this person was, and what they did, Tom mused. He saw this opportunity for what it was. Proof from fate itself that Tom was destined for great things, having been granted a soulmate of his own.</p><p>Surely, the match had been made with care, knowing how volatile and charged of a person Tom was.</p><p>He took a moment to lament over how the pace had been set by his soulmate, instead of by Tom himself. He was honor-bound to the soulmark etiquettes as the replying party, until their next exchange. His inquiries, as a result, would be limited to what his soulmate mentioned first.</p><p>Mind made and plans rearranging, Tom pulled out his pen- a parting 'gift' from his grandfather- and clicked it. Carefully, ensuring the ink flowed smoothly, Tom began.</p><p>'<em>Hello,</em>' he wrote in reply. <em>'My name is Tom.'</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you enjoyed this, kudos and comments are very much appreciated (*´︶`*)♡</p></blockquote></div></div>
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